QUOTES ABOUT HOPE

Catch the breeze.

Open to the changing season.

Yes, resist the political disaster we're living through
but open to the possibility of breezes clearing some of the air,
leading us to how and where we can keep the worst from happening
and how and where we can move it in a different direction.
There is still hope.

I learned a valuable lesson that God seems to have weaved into all his creation, and it is this: boundaries lead to freedom. Adam and Eve, in order to enjoy their garden freedom, had to maintain a boundary of not eating from the tree in the middle of the garden. I implemented boundaries, and that is where I felt freedom.

God is not waiting around for you to get it together and to feel great. God is extending his hand to you, wanting you to grab hold of it. He knows if we do it together with him we can face our most fearful today.

You know, sometimes there is light in front of us, but we just shut our eyes because we are scared of what we might see. We'd be afraid to move on after it had been so long since we did, but fear is normal, you know. It's a human need, fear, for us to survive. Yet, sometimes we have to take a step towards the light even though we're afraid of the outcome. You know why? Because hiding in fear and not making any progress means nothing. No income, no outcome. A complete nothing. That's something you'd regret later, so how about you take a step towards that light you've been ignoring, so you don't regret this later on?

Beachcomber by Stewart Stafford

Sundial straight, I strode onshore,
Waves pulsing like a foetal lullaby,
Canine companion nestling my knee,
A chef's kiss-of-life breathing space.

Looking glass shimmer at the cliff's base,
Tranquility’s wellspring beneath my feet,
Sanctum of meditation, a paused life retreat,
My seagull eyewitnesses hovering above.

The seclusion sought yielded rewards,
A hit of joie de vivre in its purest form,
The sky’s spotlight and the humid wind,
Senses alive with the lapping, busy tide.

Nascent cloud veils gather at magic hour,
Amber inferno, foretaste of paradise,
Welcomed, savoured, and appreciated,
Driftwood floating home on sunset waters.

© 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.

He brought in five hundred dollars jammed up his back porch, but somehow that graymeat son of a bitch managed to bring in something else as well. A sense of his own worth, maybe, or a feeling that he would be the winner in the end ... or maybe it was only a sense of freedom, even inside these goddamned grey walls. It was a kind of inner light he carried around with him.